Red Carpet
by AndAllThatMishigas
Summary: Set mid-s8. Harry and Ruth walk the red carpet. Short little fic idea I've had in mind for a while and was inspired to explore as I watched the Golden Globes.


**Red Carpet**

Harry hung up his mobile feeling utterly conflicted.

On the one hand, it was a marvelous gift to have Catherine call him for any reason. They were slowly getting closer. During his most recent brush with death, Harry had vowed to try harder with his daughter. They exchanged emails rather regularly now. She called whenever she was in a convenient time zone. And now, she'd called to invite him to an event. Not just any event, a film festival where her newest film would be premiering. And there was a red carpet and everything, a proper film premiere. It was a very big moment for her, and the fact that she had invited him and a plus-one was quite a momentous occasion in their often strained relationship.

On the other hand, however, was that plus-one. Catherine had made him promise to bring a date, made him swear that if he came, he wouldn't be a third-wheel to Fabian and herself. And of course Harry wanted to be there to support his daughter. And of course Harry only had one person he wanted to bring as his date.

Harry looked out through the window in his office to see where Ruth sat working away at her desk. She was focused on something on her computer screen. It was still like a strange hallucination, seeing her there. After two years without her, she was finally back. After blood and torment and guilt and grief so overwhelming that Harry had thought they wouldn't survive it. But Ruth survived. And with her, Harry survived. And now she was back where he needed her, working away and saving the world just as they always did.

But after all of that, was there any possible way he could ask her to be his date to a film premiere? No, not date, _plus-one_. That's how he'd ask. He'd explain what this meant to him, why he needed her with him. Actually, perhaps he wouldn't say that he needed her. Needed someone. No, he did need her. Needed her more than he could say. But he wouldn't say. It wasn't fair to either of them for him to say that.

Without spending any more time ruminating on it all, Harry got up and left his office. "Walk with me, please," he requested as he walked by her desk.

Ruth didn't hesitate grabbing her purse and hurrying to follow him. "What do you need, Harry?" she asked as the elevator doors.

"Let's go down by the river," he replied, not giving her an answer yet.

She remained quiet and nervous, as she often was in his presence. She let him lead her out of Thames House and into the summer sunshine. They slowed upon reaching the wall over the riverbank. "What's going on?" Ruth asked once more.

"I got a call from my daughter today," Harry began.

"That's good, isn't it?"

"Yes. We've been getting much closer lately."

She nodded. "I'm glad to hear it."

They fell silent again.

"Was…was there something else you wanted?" she prompted.

Harry sighed, knowing he needed to pluck up some courage and just ask her. "Catherine has a film premiering at a film festival in London next week. And she's asked me to go. She's bringing her partner, and I wanted to support her and see her film. And I…erm…I've got a plus-one. And I was wondering if you'd like to go with me."

"Oh!" she replied in surprise.

"You needn't feel obligated. Knowing Catherine, the film will be quite depressing. And there's a formal red carpet to go down and such. And on a Saturday night, you…you probably have a more enjoyable way to spend the evening."

Ruth snorted incredulously. "What on earth do you think I have to do?" she scoffed.

"As I…as I said, you needn't feel obligated," Harry mumbled, looking out over the river.

But Ruth put a gentle hand on his arm. "I'd be happy to go and support Catherine with you, Harry. Thank you for inviting me," she said with a soft smile.

He turned to her in surprise. "Good. That's good."

"So next Saturday?"

"Yes."

"And I suppose I'll need to find a gown."

"I suppose so, yes. I can help, if you'd like."

"Bit of a clothes horse, are you?" she quipped, a twinkle in her eyes.

He pursed his lips at her in disapproval, clarifying, "I'm a knight of the realm, there are perks."

"Dress perks?"

"There's a designer I'm allowed to consult," he explained. "I can give you her number, if you'd like."

"I'd appreciate that, thank you. I don't know when I'd have the time to go shopping."

Harry nodded. And with that, they returned back to the Grid and back to work.

The days passed very quickly, as they often did in Section D. Always something to do, always something to take attention. Saturday arrived before Harry knew it. He'd told Ruth he'd have his driver pick her up at her flat to take her to the event. He fidgeted with his tie as they pulled up, and he got out of the car to collect her.

When he rang the bell, he heard a scuffle inside. "Ruth?" he called through the door.

"Just a moment!" she shouted back.

Harry felt a bit of a fool, standing in a tuxedo outside a nondescript safehouse flat that Ruth had been living in since her return. But before he could feel too awkward about the whole thing, the door flew open. And Harry's jaw dropped. "Jesus, Ruth," he breathed.

Her storm-blue eyes went wide. "Is…is this alright?" she asked nervously, her fidgeting hands tracing down the bodice of her gown.

"You look exquisite," he replied. And she did. She was barely wearing any makeup, just perhaps a bit of something on her eyes and a soft pink lipstick. Her dark hair was piled up on her head with some beautiful tendrils framing her lovely face. Her pale neck was exposed, as was the creamy skin of her chest. The neckline of the violet satin gown was extremely low, but the long sleeves and long skirt, both covered in indigo glass beads, kept Ruth looking demure as always.

Ruth looked down, blushing very beautifully. "Thank you, Harry." She eyed him up and down rather approvingly. "You're looking exquisite yourself." Ruth lifted her hand and straightened his tie. "Shall we go?"

"Yes, of course." Harry offered Ruth his arm and led her down to the car.

They rode through London without speaking, each of them feeling rather awkward. For his part, Harry was more nervous than he remembered being outside of violent physical threat in a very long time. He was really here, in a car on the way to a red carpet film premiere with Ruth. And she looked so beautiful, he could barely breathe. How he'd manage to walk in a straight line and then watch a film with her sitting beside him all evening was beyond him.

When they arrived, Catherine and Fabian were waiting for them. "Dad, hi! You're looking quite dashing. Very James Bond," she teased.

Harry tried to smile but surely grimaced instead. "Catherine. Congratulations, sweetheart." He kissed her cheek and then greeted Fabian by shaking his hand. He was a nice lad, even if he was French. "Catherine, my daughter, and her partner, Fabian. This is Ruth Evershed, my…erm…"

"Date," she answered, greeting Catherine and Fabian on her own. "I'm so glad to meet you both, and it's such a pleasure to be here. I'm really looking forward to seeing your film, Catherine. There isn't nearly enough unbiased coverage of the current problems facing the Kurdish people in Syria."

Catherine looked rather surprised. Harry saw her reaction and explained lightly, "Ruth and I work together."

Recognition flashed in her expression. "Ruth…oh are you…?"

"Yes," Harry replied quickly. "Shall we?" He offered Ruth his arm again and gestured for Catherine and Fabian to lead the way.

The red carpet was exactly as the name might suggest: a red carpet running from the side of the street into the theater. Ruth held Harry's arm rather tightly, obviously uncomfortable with the shouting crowds and flashing cameras.

"How much does your daughter know about us?" she asked in his ear, hiding her concern with a plastered-on smile.

"Some. Just after you left, she and Fabian were victims of a bombing in Lebanon. I was on the first flight to Beirut to bring them home. She got a broken leg, he got a concussion. They're both fine. But I was quite obviously, as Catherine put it, utterly devastated. I explained in rather vague terms that I had just lost someone I cared about very deeply, someone I worked with named Ruth. And since your return, Catherine and I have been speaking more. I may have mentioned you. Though again, in very vague terms."

"I see," she replied simply. Ruth gave his arm a little squeeze. "I'm glad she knows. You should share more with the people you care about."

Harry couldn't help but smile at her. "I'm very glad you agreed to come as my date, Ruth."

"I'm very glad to be your date, Harry," she smiled in return.

When they got inside the theater, Ruth went to find the loo and Harry waited in the lobby for Catherine to be finished with her interviews with the press about her film. No one at all wanted to talk to Harry and Ruth. In a number of circles, Sir Harry Pearce was quite important and had trouble getting by unnoticed. But the film crowd neither knew nor cared about him. It was a nice change of pace, to be unimportant and merely enjoy the evening with a beautiful woman he adored.

Catherine sent Fabian off to get drinks when she found her father standing by himself. "Where's Ruth?" she asked.

"Bathroom," Harry replied.

"You're absolutely mad for her, aren't you?"

He nearly groaned in annoyance. Never one to beat around the bush, his daughter. But if he had learned one thing in all his years as a failed father to Catherine, it was to be direct and to the point in return with her. "Yes," he said simply.

"Is this the first time you've asked her out?"

"No. We went to dinner once."

"Oh? When?"

"About a month before I saw you in Beirut."

"A month before you lost her," Catherine said in understanding.

So she did remember. "Yes."

"But now she's back?"

"Yes, she is. Back at work."

"And back dating you," she said slyly.

"That remains to be seen," Harry replied cryptically. "She's gone through quite a lot recently, and she's not the sort to appreciate being pressured in personal relationships."

Catherine sighed, clearly frustrated with her stodgy father. "Well, I think she's lovely. Far too young and beautiful for you."

"I'm aware of that, yes," he said through gritted teeth.

"But she seems to be mad for you, too. I don't know if you notice the way she looks at you. Fabian saw it right away. We watched you two on the red carpet."

"Be that as it may, you're not to interfere or make her uncomfortable, is that understood?"

"I'm not a child, Dad. Your 'stern father' voice doesn't work on me anymore."

"When did it ever?" he grumbled.

But then Fabian and Ruth both returned. She'd noticed him at the bar and gone to help carry the drinks back. The four of them toasted to Catherine's premiere. Harry tried to pay more attention to how Ruth looked at him. He caught her eye as they sipped their champagne. There was something in her expression that tied his stomach in knots.

A moment later, the lights flashed, indicating they needed to take their seats. Ruth sat on the end, with Harry beside her. Catherine sat next to her father with Fabian on her other side. The theater went dark and the audience applauded as the film began.

About ten minutes in, Catherine leaned over to whisper, "Dad, take Ruth's hand."

"Hush."

Fifteen minutes after that, she was pestering him again. "Make a move, old man!"

Harry just shushed her again.

Catherine nudged him a little while later. "Dad!"

"Watch the film, Catherine," he chided.

"It's my film, I know what happens. Now you put your arm around her or something, or Fabian and I are going to start snogging, and then you'll really be sorry."

"Lord in heaven," Harry muttered. To think this brilliant young woman, his daughter, could be so pushy and obnoxious.

But knowing Catherine, that was a very real threat. Harry shifted where he sat and brushed his hand against Ruth's. Her eyes were glued to the screen. She paid no mind to the shenanigans Catherine had been attempting. She seemed to pay no mind to Harry, either. But Harry found he was incorrect in that assessment. Because as soon as she felt Harry's hand, she moved her arm to lace her fingers between his. Her hand was small and soft and a little cold. Harry couldn't resist rubbing small circles on her skin with his thumb. He watched Ruth for her reaction and he could have sworn that even with only the dim light coming from the screen, she smiled.

"Well done," Catherine whispered.

Harry just lightly elbowed her in the ribs in response.

As the film went on, Ruth's other hand came to rest on his forearm, which turned her whole body toward him. Harry had to work very hard to pay attention to the screen and not the way her cleavage looked in that dress at that angle. Her head eventually came to rest on his shoulder, and Harry was absolutely gobsmacked by this open display of affection from her.

"Are you alright, Ruth?" he whispered. After all, this wasn't normal behavior from her at all.

She lifted her head to look at him. Shadows from the screen reflected in her eyes as she searched his face. Without a single word, Ruth leaned in and pressed her lips to his. It was a quick kiss, over before Harry even realized it began. "Thank you for inviting me, Harry," she whispered before putting her head back down on his shoulder.

Whether or not Catherine saw Ruth kiss him, Harry couldn't be sure. He certainly wasn't going to waste time thinking about it, though. He only wanted to revel in the tingle left on his mouth from Ruth's kiss, the weight of her on his arm, and the earthy scent of her hair. Harry wasn't even sure how long the film was going to be, but for all he cared, it could go on all night. He was perfectly happy just where he was.


End file.
